


SnowBaz Oneshots

by RoseAnna



Category: Carry On - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Alternate Universe, Boys In Love, Established Relationship, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-11
Updated: 2017-07-13
Packaged: 2018-12-01 00:18:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11474640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoseAnna/pseuds/RoseAnna
Summary: A collection of Carry On oneshots centred around Snowbaz. Mainly fluff with some AU too.





	1. A Dragon At The Wedding

“Snow, will you hurry up?” Baz knocked on the bathroom door of the flat again, exasperated. “You’ve been preening yourself for _two hours_ \- I need to do my hair.” Simon opened the door, and Baz stopped talking. He was wearing a red dress shirt with a black dinner jacket. His usually unkempt curly hair fell in golden waves over his forehead. _Crowley_. “I can’t tuck my tail in, can you help?” Baz stumbled over his words a little. “Uh, yeah...turn around.” Simon’s eyes swept over Baz. “Why aren’t you ready yet?” Baz’s irritable mood immediately returned. “I don’t know, Simon - maybe because you’ve been in the bathroom for half the day.” Simon grimaced and walked into their room. “I can’t tie my tie without the mirror,” he protested weakly, but Baz had already entered the bathroom. The door slammed shut.

Simon went and grabbed Penny’s wedding present. He had struggled to find a suitable gift, finally settling on a photobook of their years at Watford. It had a gilded front cover. Baz had spelled the letters so they flashed when it was opened. He hastily tucked it in his pocket. After a while, Baz exited the bathroom and checked himself in the mirror. He’d gelled his hair back, and was wearing a rich, dark blue velvet, suit. He frowned in the mirror, adjusting his tie, then turned to Simon and pressed a kiss to his mouth. “Ready?”

They took a taxi to the venue. The wedding was to be held in Cornwall, near the beach. Penny used to visit as a child, she’d even taken Simon one year when he’d managed to evade the Mage’s suspicion. Simon swallowed, his stomach dropping. Thinking about the Mage was still a painful memory. Sometimes his face would flash before Simon’s eyes, and he would wince. Even after two years. Simon pulled out a crumpet from his pocket and began chewing idly, staring out of the window. After the wedding, Penny was moving out of their flat and going to live with Micah in America. Simon hadn’t really processed that. That was something he'd perfected. Pushing things to the back of his mind. Avoiding talking things over. He’d be more than fine, of course - he’d have Baz, but the thought of not seeing Penny everyday was strange, foreign. “Merlin and Morgana, Snow - you _just_ ate,” he looked distastefully towards the crumpet in his hand. “Do you just carry them around?” Simon shrugged. He’d spilled crumbs down his front. They sat in comfortable silence until they were five minutes away. Baz turned to Simon. “So,” he began. “Bunce is finally flying the nest.” Simon frowned. “Well, she’s been living in London with me for two years…”

“You know what I mean. You’ve been inseparable for _ten_  years, Simon," Baz stated. He leaned back in his seat. “Are you nervous at all?” Simon thought it over for a moment. “I’ll miss her like mad, of course.” He began. “But _we’ve_ been inseparable for ten years, too - even if we were plotting each other's deaths for the majority of them.” Baz smiled. Simon grabbed his hand and held it. “I think I’ll be okay.”

It really was a beautiful venue. An vast, old, building - ivy spiralling across the brickwork. Sunlight danced upon their cheeks as they left the taxi, paying the cabbie who - thankfully - wasn't a goblin. Perched on a clifftop, the building's shadow plunged the sea below into cobalt blue. The waves bit at the coastline, the sun glittering on the undulating waves.

"Simon!" A voice carried on the wind. "Baz!"

Penelope run across the lawn, hitching her dress up. She didn't look like the Penelope he remembered. Gone were her school skirts, unkempt hair and cape. Her dark hair was folded into a knot at the back of her head, spiralling curls falling down to frame her face. Her long white dress was stark against her honeyed skin. She hugged them both enthusiastically. Baz smirked. " _Crowley_ , Bunce - you're acting like we've just come back from the dead." Simon could tell he was pleased to see her.

"You look beautiful, Penny," Simon said. Something caught in his throat as he remembered their first lesson together - the way Penny had insisted they be friends. Their adventures at Watford. Fighting the Humdrum.

"Thanks," she grinned, adjusting her veil. "You look great too."

Baz smirked. "Well of course he does," he replied. "He's wearing my suit."

They walked through the venue. It had a high, arched, ceiling - which was covered in shimmering gold designs. The walls were ivory. A huge chandelier in the centre cast flecks of light across the wooden floor, peppering it with white. They walked arm in arm, talking to Penelope's parents - who greeted Simon as warmly as Penelope. They caught a glimpse of Micah, too. His was stocky and muscular, with dark hair and a square jaw. Simon had met him twice in the past year, when he flew over from America. He was quieter than Penny, less abrasive. He shook Simon's hand.

"I'm Basilton," Baz announced dramatically to Micah, who looked a little intimidated. "Simon's better half."

The only person missing was Agatha. Penelope had sent her an invitation two months ago, but hadn't had a reply. She'd stopped returning her texts about a year ago, anyway. To be frank, Simon hadn't even thought about Agatha for the two years since she left Watford for California. 

"Wellbelove's chickened out, I see," Baz sneered - surveying the room. "She's good at that." Simon thumped him. "What?" They continued to walk. Simon took a glass of champagne. 

Baz bumped his elbow. "I need some air," he said, indicating to the corridor ahead of them. Simon nodded. They passed the ceremony room as they walked - bouquets of flowers placed at intervals around the room, and had almost made their way to the lawn when Baz suddenly stopped, horror-struck.

"Baz?" Simon cast his gaze to where Baz was staring and he, too, froze.

"Is that?"

"Yep."

"That's a..."

"Yep."

"Baz, that's a dragon."

Simon stood stock still for a moment. It was magnificent, really. A huge, jade, dragon with glinting scales. Its umber eyes caught Simon's, and for a moment he was back at Watford, pushing his magic into Baz - feeling it course through him, crackling and burning.

"Baz - there's a dragon at Penny's wedding."

"Really, Snow?" Baz was still holding his wrist. "Are you absolutely sure?"

Before Simon could do anything (not that he could really do anything, since his magic had been taken) Baz took his thin wand from his pocket and began chanting. " ** _Dead in the air!_** "

The dragon remained, scorching the floor with its fire. Baz's shoes began to melt.

"Shit," Baz muttered, reaching for his wand again. His shirt collar was singed.

"Do you think I should go and get Penny?" Simon asked.

"Crowley, _no_ Simon - it's her wedding day." He tried the same incantation again. " _ **Dead in the air!**_ "

The dragon lashed out and caught Simon's leg, ripping the trouser leg to his thigh. He fell to the floor with a thud. "Simon!" Baz knelt beside him. "Are you okay?"

Simon nodded, bracing himself for another swipe of the dragon's spiked tail. It didn't come. Instead, someone began chanting expertly from behind - their voice echoing in the cavernous corridor. " _ **Ladybird, ladybird, fly away home, your house is on fire, and your children shall burn.**_ "

Penny was chanting behind them, forcing the dragon out. When she uttered the words, it turned and its vast, muted turquoise, wings fanned out. It slowly rose into the air, crashing through the ceiling. A chunk of debris missed Simon by a centimetre. He wondered what the Normals in the village next to the venue would say if they saw it.

"Right." Penny tucked her hair behind her ears.

"You brought your _wand_ to your wedding, Bunce?" Baz questioned incredulously. 

"To be fair, I bought crumpets in my pocket." Simon stood and grabbed Baz's hand. 

Before either of them could reply, Penelope looked at the clock, suddenly stricken. "The ceremony starts now!"

There wasn't even time for Baz to spell them clean before they were running into the ceremony room. Everybody turned in their seats as Baz and Simon entered, singed. Baz simply took Simon by the arm and guided him to their seats, as if their late entrance was planned. He glanced down at their singed suits when they sat, as the ceremony began.

"We're still the best dressed couple here," he grinned.

 

 

 


	2. Denial

_**Simon** _

It was difficult _not_ to look at Tyrannus Basilton Grimm Pitch. Unavoidable, in fact. He was the person Simon's eyes were first drawn to in a room. He couldn't help it.

It wasn't just that Baz exuded this sort of cool energy. He was striking, too. From his sharp widow's peak to the curve of his cheekbones. And his nose was ridiculous. High and pointed. Even his eyes, which were the colour of fresh embers, seemed to demand his attention - hooded and bright and full of malice.

And it wasn't like Simon _liked_ looking at Baz, of course. He just always seemed to be in his field of vision. On the football pitch, grass dewy and glinting in the morning. Or in the hallway, bag slung onto his shoulder - reading some old classic from his library at home.

He didn't like looking at Baz. Of course he didn't. It was just a given. 

_**Baz** _

Why is that mouth breather staring at me?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm tired and this happened oops
> 
> Edit: If anyone has any recommendations of Snowbaz oneshots they'd like to read, please comment them. Thanks for reading. :)


	3. All That Jazz

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Au where Baz is in a jazz band and meets Simon at a concert.

"Bourbon on the rocks."

Simon slouched over the bar counter, smoothing back his hair. He'd gelled it back, but it was already returning to its naturally unkempt state. He groaned, trying to press it down with his palm. Where was Penny?

"Make that two, Chris," said a rich voice from behind him.

Simon turned to find one of the most striking men he'd ever seen glancing at him appraisingly. His wavy, blackthorn, hair was parted and smoothed to one side, and he was wearing a deep emerald velvet suit. He grinned widely at Simon.

"I'm Basilton," he stated confidently. 

Simon flushed. "Simon. Snow...Simon Snow."

The man chuckled. "Hello Simon Snow." His voice was warm and musical, it exuded charm. 

"So..." Simon took a sip of his drink and winced a little. He'd never really liked the taste of alcohol. "What brings you to this bar, Basilton?" He tried to say it with ease, but it came out a little more rushed than he intended. 

"Please, call me Baz," he grinned easily. "And as it happens - _Simon Snow_ \- I'm actually performing tonight."

Oh...oh. Simon didn't know what to say to that. He was ridiculously handsome and talented. Simon gulped and looked at the floor, blush blossoming on his cheeks. He wondered why Baz was bothering to talk to _him_ when there were so many other people in this jazz bar, wearing luxurious suits and glittering dresses. Maybe he was trying to talk Simon into doing a show with him, and was about to ask him if he played the saxophone (he didn't). 

"Simon!" Penny weaved her way through the crowd. _About time_.She was wearing a floor-length royal purple dress, and had twisted her long mahogany hair into a bun. She hugged him enthusiastically as she arrived, then looked pointedly at Baz, who was still coolly sipping his drink and observing the foray of dancing people. 

Penny was the reason he'd come to this bar in the first place. She loved jazz, live music in general, and they hadn't done anything together in a while. They'd barely left their flat. 

"Who's this?" Penny turned to Baz and smiled, the dusting of glitter on her eyelids flashing.

"Uh, Basilton...Baz," Simon uttered, stumbling over his words. "He's performing tonight."

"It's good to meet you, Baz." She replied warmly. 

"And you," Baz smiled widely. He threw away smiles like it cost him nothing. "Can I get you a drink?"

After a while, they gravitated towards a round table in the corner, away from the dance floor. Another jazz band had just begun to set up, and were playing a lively - intricate - piece. Simon felt himself beginning to relax. It was easier with Penny here. 

"So, how long have you two known each other?" Baz asked, settling into his seat. Simon paused so Penny could answer.

"Fourteen years now, actually." She sipped her cocktail. "We went to school together, then college." Baz nodded. "We've been best friends for most of that time - we live together actually, our flat is fairly near here."

"How nice," Baz said, eyeing Simon. "Maybe I could pay you a visit, play some music for you both." He quirked an eyebrow, and Simon couldn't help but laugh. He was _ridiculous._

The set had soon ended. Simon was about to go and order another round of drinks when Baz stood, smoothing down the lapels of his suit, and grinned. "I'm up next, " he stated. There wasn't a hint of nervousness in his rich voice. Then, as he was leaving for the stage, he leaned down next to Simon's ear.

"Hope you enjoy the show," he whispered.

Simon blushed furiously. Baz winked at Simon as he walked onto the stage, hand in his pocket. Penny was laughing. 

"Simon, you are _hopeless_ in situations like this." Simon rolled his eyes and sat back in his seat. Penny was right, of course - but Simon didn't want to admit that. Plus, Baz's set was just about to start. The lights dimmed, casting an amber glow over the bar and stage. Baz's skin was bathed in gold. The hum of chatter slowly died away.

"This first song is called Summertime," he announced coolly. Applause erupted from around the room, and a few people whooped. Simon wondered whether Baz came here a lot. He seemed to be very popular. 

The track started, and Simon's jaw dropped. Baz was _incredible._ His voice was deep and rich, much like when he spoke, although when it lilted and swayed in time with the band it took it to another level. It was an apt song for the time of year, too. It was only May, but London's streets were becoming dappled with sunlight, and the nights were getting hotter.

Baz sang easily, smiling into the microphone, and kept his hand in his pocket throughout the performance. He locked eyes with Simon on more than one occasion, and Simon felt his stomach drop - a blush creeping up his neck.  When he finished the song, he bowed almost shyly - dark hair falling into his eyes, appearing flecked with gold in the soft ambience.

After that, he played another song. And another. By the end of the set, Simon and Penny were both dancing. Simon felt a little less anxious, being intoxicated, and laughed when Penny danced, holding both of her hands. When Baz's set ended, clamorous applause erupted from the room. The next band's members patted his back as he left the stage, smiling broadly. He appeared next to Penny.

"That was amazing," Penny said breathlessly. Simon nodded in assent, and Baz grinned.

"I'm glad you liked it." He smoothed his hair away from his face. Then, "Do you mind if I steal him away from you for a bit?" He asked, looking at Simon. Penny bit her lip at Simon's mildly terrified expression.

"Of course not, he's all yours," she answered brightly, already making her way to the bar. As she left, she whispered hastily in Simon's ear. "Don't mess this up." Simon gulped. 

Now Baz was in front of him, and his inhibitions were dulled, he felt he could look straight at him. He really was striking, even more so up close. A few freckles flecked his otherwise smooth, pale skin - and his eyes were a colour Simon couldn't really discern. Blue? Grey? He decided they were more silver than anything else. 

"Dance with me, Simon?" He asked softly, gesturing to the dance floor. He bit his lip nervously then, and for the first time that night looked a little vulnerable. On any other night Simon would have hastily refused and sat at the bar, shied away. But there was something about Baz.

"Okay," he said, and Baz took him by the hand.

It was different dancing with Baz. He felt more alert. On edge. A slower song began to play, and Baz gently put his arm on Simon's waist, taking Simon's left hand firmly. Simon's breath hitched, and he hoped Baz didn't notice.

They continued to dance for a little while, gradually getting closer. When the last song ended, Baz leaned forwards and brushed a curl back from Simon's forehead. Simon smiled, looking down at brightly lit floor. He was still holding Baz's hands.

"Simon!" Penny was making her way back to them, through the thinning crowd. "Our cab's arrived." She noticed their joined hands and paused. "I'll wait outside for you."

Simon nodded gratefully. Baz just grinned again. He had an interesting smile; his mouth quirked up to one side and creases appeared in his cheeks.

"Well, I suppose this is goodnight then," Baz said smoothly, looking around them. Only a few people remained, talking quietly in the corners of the room. A man walked past them with a guitar on his back. 

"S'pose it is," Simon agreed, a little thickly.

Baz looked up at him then. "Meet me here, same time, for drinks next week?" He said it boldly. Simon smiled warmly.

"Sure."

He was about to leave when Baz took hold of his shirt cuff. "Oh, and just in case you want to hear my dulcet tones any sooner than that," he said, smiling sardonically. Simon rolled his eyes. " _This_ is my number."

He handed Simon a piece of paper, then closed his fingers over it. Delicately, he brushed the same curl from Simon's forehead and leaned in, kissing him lightly on the cheek. Simon closed his eyes.

"Until then, Simon Snow."

As Simon walked out of the nearly empty bar and onto the pavement, he was still replaying what had happened in his mind. The way Baz had brushed his hair out of his face. As soon as Penny saw Simon, she began bombarding him with questions.

"How did it go? Did you get his number?"

They were in the back of the cab now, the lights from London's skyline casting a ghostly glow on the upholstery. "Maybe," Simon said, clutching the piece of paper Baz had given him. 

"So it went well? You didn't mess it up?" Penny's urgent tone made Simon laugh.

"Could've been worse," Simon answered, smiling to himself. 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I listened to Death Of A Bachelor and this sort of happened


	4. Home

Simon hadn't really known what home meant until now. 

Every summer he'd go to a different care home and barely learn the other kids' names before he was transferred or went back to Watford. And, sure, he supposed Watford had been a kind of home for him - but it was now tainted with the dark memories of what had happened there. It was a dark mark on the map. A place where the unspeakable had happened.

But when he came home to find Baz sprawled on the sofa, or Penny making tea in the kitchen, the battered kettle whistling loudly (a gift from Penny's parents when they moved in - she said they'd had it for years) - he finally understood. He understood what it was like to come back everyday to people who cared about him.

He liked that he knew Baz's coffee order off by heart (black with two sugars). 

He liked that Baz and Simon's constant affection made Penny groan and roll her eyes.

He liked waking up next to Baz knowing he was safe, that no one was hurting him - curled up and pressed against his back. 

He liked coming back to the people he loved.

Because he finally understood. 


End file.
